Brushing Up On History
by Captain Peregrine
Summary: Random PWP smut. Italy's all cute and innocent... but we all know he's not.


Germany watched with open arousal as Italy crawled up the length of the bed, a positively _predatory_ smile on his face. The larger man swallowed. He was aroused—there was no denying it and there was no trying to hide it by this point—but he couldn't help but thinking that this wasn't right. This was… this was _Italy_. Little, naive Italy.

"Italy—stop." Germany pressed a hand against Italy's shoulder, halting his forward crawl. He sat up, forcing Italy away further still. "We… we shouldn't do this. You're… I don't…"

Germany gulped passed the awkward lump in his throat.

"I don't want to hurt you." He managed to choke out. Italy blinked at him with those beautiful, doe-brown eyes of his. Then, very slowly, that grin returned. It was amazing how fast that youthful, boyish face could transform into something so… well, raunchy, to be frank. He couldn't ever remember seeing Italy like this, in fact. It was… well, a bit disconcerting, but intriguing, as well. And promising. Very promising.

"Hurt me?" Italy asked, his grin growing. "How? You are afraid you will be too rough?"

Germany's pale face flushed bright red. He pulled his hand away from Italy's shoulder and leaned back on his elbows. He couldn't quite meet Italy's gaze, but he mumbled, "Well… yes."

Germany felt a slender hand against his chest, pushing gently at him to lie down. His eyes flicked back to Italy and the hungry look of arousal in the smaller man's eyes was… marvelous. Germany gulped again and slowly lay back against the bed. He watched as Italy, still sitting back on his heels and pinning German's legs in the process, began to slowly untuck the blue-eyed man's shirt from his waistband.

"Germany, you need to brush up on your history." Italy purred as he slowly began undoing each individual button. As each button was released Italy leaned down and pressed a soft, warm kiss to every inch of skin that was slowly being revealed.

"W—what do you mean?" Germany gasped out. He risked a glance down at Italy. The darker haired youth looked up at him and grinned, his brown eyes even darker with desire. He undid the rest of the buttons, pushing open the shirt to reveal the full expanse of Germany's well-toned chest. Germany could feel Italy's lean body hovering just a hand's breadth above his far-too-clothed body. The warmth of him was making his pants feel uncomfortably tight…

The little nation playfully licked at a nipple before biting down on it gently. Germany hissed and his head rolled back, moaning in a rather undignified way as he arched up into that touch.

"I am descended from the mighty Roman Empire, remember." It wasn't a question and he said it with a superiority that Germany wasn't used to hearing from his ally. Italy lavished a bit of his attention on the next nipple. Now both were pert and simply _aching_. "And what was Ancient Rome best known for?"

"T—tell me." Germany gasped. He felt Italy's mouth roam lower. Slim fingers plucked teasingly at the buttons of his pants.

"Architecture." Italy murmured as he undid the zipper of Germany's trousers. The fair-haired country obligingly lifted his hips when Italy gave the waist a tug. Soon Germany was clothed only in his boxers and his shirt—though, since the shirt was only on because he couldn't quite lift his arms yet he didn't think that actually counted—and still Italy's mouth roamed lower.

"Being a little bit insane." Now those deft fingers were pulling at the elastic band of Germany's boxers. Warm lips pressed against the smooth skin just below his navel. As the waistband was pulled lower, the lips followed. Once again, Germany lifted his hips and there went the boxers. Italy nosed the fine hairs curling around Germany's—albeit, impressive—erect manhood. Lean hands brushed the insides of his thighs and Italy's breath on his almost painfully aroused penis was driving Germany insane. He risked a final peek and almost came there on the spot. The predatory gleam in Italy's liquid-brown eyes was so intense he could almost feel the heat from it. And seeing that face—transformed from the impish face he was so used to into a… well, _this_—poised so close to Germany's throbbing cock…

"W—what else?" Germany choked. Italy's grin was almost terrifying.

"And sex."

That was all the warning Germany got before his penis was fully engulfed in Italy's hot mouth. Germany cried out and threw his head back into the pillows, fisting the sheets as Italy sucked eagerly at him. When the tip of his tongue dug into the leaking tip, Germany almost screamed. He couldn't stop himself from bucking up into that wet vacuum of heat and Italy didn't try to stop him. If anything it only goaded him on and it wasn't long before Germany was a quivering, writhing, cursing ball of frayed nerves beneath Italy's hands—and in that oh-so-skilled mouth.

Suddenly that heat was gone. Germany groaned in frustration and lifted his head again to see what had happened. He watched in dazed arousal as Italy fluidly shed his clothing, leaving him wonderfully, perfectly naked. He was just as hard as Germany and much more impressive than the larger man would have given him credit for—which taught Germany to never jump to conclusions again.

He watched as Italy stuck his fingers into his own mouth, sucking on them until they were gleaming with saliva. Germany would have preferred to have been the one to do that, but he was in no position to make demands right now. Though he never imagined the tables turning like this, he knew that at this moment he was Italy's willing and pliable plaything. Germany also remembered enough of his history to know that Ancient Rome—however strong he may have been—had never conquered uncivilized Germania. He had been much too wild and crafty for that.

But modern Italy sure was doing a fine job of it (at least tonight).

Once again, there was no warning. There was also no yielding. Italy prepared Germany by slowly thrusting three fingers at once into his tight hole. Germany groaned—deep, desperate, dirty—and spread his legs wider. Italy pushed inside with those three slim fingers, fucking him slowly without ever fully touching that one spot deep inside him…

He felt him brush it and Germany moaned, wriggling a bit to try to get Italy to really hit it, but the darker-haired man just smiled and pulled his fingers free. Germany's groan of frustration was more of a growl this time, but Italy ignored him. Instead he simply spit in his palm, sliding it up and down his own length and mixing saliva with the pre-cum leaking from his tip. He aligned himself with Germany's entrance and pushed inside in one hard, fluid motion—and instantly hit _the spot_.

Germany screamed. There was no way around it. He screamed as Italy thrust into him—and again, when Italy pulled nearly all the way out and rammed home a second time.

"Oh—fuck, Italia!" he cried. Italy laughed quietly and leaned over Germany's broader, muscular body. He braced himself above him with one hand, while the other gripped Germany's hip. The German helped him out by lifting his knees, giving Italy a better angle. His hands settled on slender hips—all he could do was hang on. Immediately Italy began to pound into him, fucking him harder than Germany could remember ever being fucked before. Hell, _he_ was the one usually doing the fucking.

Germany groaned and reached for Italy, pulling him close and pressing his lips against Italy's. Instantly Italy's tongue was in his mouth, thrusting inside. Germany moaned as the smaller man thoroughly fucked his mouth while he penetrated him, thrusting again and again into that same spot—the one that made Germany's whole body feel like it was about to explode.

And then Italy's slender hand was around Germany's cock. His thumb ran across the tip as he twisted, matching it with a particularly violent thrust. Germany couldn't even scream that time. All he could manage was an animal-like keen as Italy pumped his cock in time with his powerful thrusts, bringing Germany closer… closer… close—

"Italy, I'm… Oh, fuck. Ohhhhhh…." Germany came with a long groan, arching into Italy's hand. Italy pumped him through his orgasm, keeping his rhythm steady, but moments later Germany felt him falter. Then Italy gasped and snapped his hips against Germany's as he came into him, filling him in a way Germany didn't think he had ever been before.

Italy collapsed onto Germany and pressed his face into the sweaty crook of Germany's neck. They lay there for a few moments, simply breathing in the musty scent of each other's sex-induced sweat. Germany tentatively ran a hand down Italy's back.

"That… was…" he couldn't think of words.

Italy pushed himself up on his elbows and smiled down at Germany.

"Did you enjoy your history lesson?" he asked, looking surprisingly innocent. It was that familiar look Germany knew so well—and one he would never trust again. He should have known his sweet little Italia would be a raunchy sex god. But Germany wasn't without his abilities, either.

Now it was Germany's turn to smile as his broad hands settled on Italy's hips.

"I did. Perhaps next time I will show you why your grandfather never conquered Germania…"

**My first Hetalia fan fiction, so sorry if it's not very good, but I just couldn't resist. Italy is, after all, Roman Empire's grandson and the Ancient Romans were nothing if not a bit sexually perverted from time to time. And since certain modern Italian politicians seem keen on reliving that bit of history, I felt Germany should get a taste, too.**


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